Photos: Christmas Day Blizzard of 1982 in Denver

We knew it was coming. Colorado weather forecasters got it right. The word B-L-I-Z-Z-A-R-D was splayed across maps of the state 31 years ago. And the citizens who lived through the Blizzard of 1982 have never quite forgotten it.

On Christmas Eve, snow fell heavily on Denver, as everywhere in Colorado and it continued to fall through December 25. High winds whipped snow into massive drifts over highways, cars, livestock, houses and streets. Travelers were stranded for days after giving up the fight to get anywhere. Schools were already closed for the holiday, so most people stayed exactly where they were and waited out the storm.

[media-credit id=470 align=”aligncenter” width=”300″][/media-credit] Rick Slezak, with pet dog Beau, skied to the Denver Post newspaper box at 1800 Downing Street. There were no newspapers because the blizzard had blocked all streets.

The official tally by the National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) was 23.8 inches. Some areas received a good deal more, closer to 29 inches. Does it really matter how much? Life in the city was seriously disrupted. Roads were impassable. No one could get to work. Those who were at work didn’t make it home.

Hospitals made desperate pleas for people with four-wheel-drive vehicles to come forward to assist in transporting patients to emergency rooms.

In the absence of their planned holiday dinner guests, many households feasted merrily all by themselves.

When the wind stopped howling, there were signs of activity. Neighbors slowly emerged, curious to see how those across the street had fared. They happily reconnected with each other over their snow shovels.

After digging narrow paths to get to the streets, people tried any mode of transportation possible. Few people in those days had snowmobiles, so out came the snowshoes, cross-country skis and horses. Cheers rose up when anyone in a four-wheeled drive vehicle actually got out of his own neighborhood. Camaraderie was as much a universal theme as cabin fever.

Supermarkets ran out of perishables, bread, eggs, milk… and beer.

[media-credit name=”Denver Post photo by John Prieto” align=”aligncenter” width=”495″][/media-credit] Amy Prieto scales a huge snow drift in front of her home during the Christmas blizzard.

[media-credit id=470 align=”aligncenter” width=”495″][/media-credit] The Blizzard of 1982 left many cars stranded in snow drifts in the Denver metro area.

For days after the snowing stopped, ‘The Big Dig’ was the main activity for everyone. Merchants bemoaned the loss of income over critical Christmas shopping days, but there were more serious problems, as several people died from exposure or heart attacks while shoveling.

[media-credit id=470 align=”aligncenter” width=”495″][/media-credit] Digging out of the Blizzard of ’82.

Unfortunately, snowplows seemed invisible. The neighborhood of Montbello, then a remote patch of developed housing in the northeast part of Denver, was among the last to be treated to plowed streets. Police patrol cars were helpless there. Law enforcement resorted to being squired around by volunteers with four-wheel-drive vehicles.

There was political fallout. Mayor Bill McNichols was defeated in his attempt at re-election the next spring, giving a resounding victory to Federico Pena, who had campaigned, in part, on the disastrous performance of the snowplows of Denver.

“Days before the storm hit, the statements went out warning of a potential snow storm. I went in to work at the National Weather Service office at Stapleton Airport early Christmas Eve. Snow began to fall around 6:15 that morning and steadily increased along with the wind. By noon the staff at NWS hunkered down. We knew we were in for the long haul. The winds increased, and for hours it was snowing horizontally, as drifts piled up across the Denver metro. Hourly observations and measurements were taken from the rooftop observation deck, at least until the drifts blocked the doors. The Weather Service team worked tirelessly, filing reports, issuing warnings and advisories and answering phone calls from the public and the media. ‘Stay inside. Do not venture outside. Stay safe until the storm passes.’

The winds howled.

Snow piled up.

For 30+ hours.

Christmas morning, the storm moved east. The winds died down and the sun peeked through the clouds. The view from the roof was amazing. Absolute silence. Snow blanketed as far as you could see. Nothing was moving. Drifts of 10 to 15 feet were everywhere. It gave new meaning to “not a creature was stirring.”

And reports from surrounding towns – Fort Collins, Castle Rock, Winter Green and Limon – showed only a few inches. The Christmas ’82 storm had bulls-eyed Denver with massive snowfall amounts of 3 feet and more. It was an amazing display of the power of nature!”